


Decorating the Tree

by fuzzyfying



Series: December Fanfiction Challenge [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Tree, Christmas fic, Fluff, M/M, Winter fic, Xmas fic, jennie fic, xmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:17:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3134171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzyfying/pseuds/fuzzyfying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dec 8: Decorating the Tree</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decorating the Tree

Derek stares blankly back at Stiles, who has his hands cocked on his hips, looking back expectantly. Derek’s gaze slides back to the tree that Stiles has lugged into the loft, surprised that someone so gangly could have hefted so much weight. It was a big tree; a huge, 9 ft fir beauty that was just _laying there in his loft._

“Are you gonna help or are you just gonna gape all day? Trust me, I know I’m that hot, but still. So…”

Derek growled. “Stiles, what the fuck. Why the hell do you have a tree, and why is it in my house?”

He glares at Stiles and Stiles continues to stand there, with his eyebrows raised. “It’s almost Christmas, sourwolf. Now put those eyebrows away and help me get this tree set up. I gotta go get all the ornaments and shit.”

Turning on his heel, Stiles ran down to his jeep as Derek’s eyebrows stayed furrowed. Derek shook his head and ran a hand over his face, listening to the soft sounds of Stiles shuffling through his messy jeep.

As he looked down at the tree, Derek couldn’t help but think: _And then there were two._

  
  


-

 

By the time Stiles returned, Derek had fit the tree into its stand and was sitting cross-legged, glaring up at the tree as if it had personally offended him in some way. Stiles peeked his head out from behind the three huge boxes of decorations and ornaments that were currently threatening to topple over. As he carefully set the boxes down, he gave Derek a long look before he clapped his hands together.

“C’mon, we got a lot of work to do if we want to get all these ornaments on. And we should probably put lights around the loft for the Christmas party.”

When Derek turns back to look at him, it was like Derek had returned to the scary murder suspect with the permanent frown plastered on his face like the first few years Stiles knew him. In fact, Stiles knew all of Derek’s qualms about celebrating Christmas. Especially putting up a Christmas tree. It was the source of why Derek never really hung out with the pack, why he still kept his distance at times. Because even though Derek wasn’t the same person that Scott and Stiles stumbled upon in high school, he was still withdrawn.

It wasn’t even _that_ though; Derek always had something against specifically putting up a Christmas tree.

And Stiles got it. He did, really. Because he’d give anything to go back to when he was nine years old, laughing with his mom as they picked out their favorite ornaments to put onto their small Christmas tree as his dad took pictures with a huge smile on his face. But she was gone now and he was still here. Just like Derek with his family.

But Stiles has also learned that sometimes the best way to forget the past pains of old memories is to make and enjoy the new memories.

“Don’t make that face at me Mr. Grumpy Eyebrows. You know why I’m here. We’re getting this tree up and that’s final.”

Grumbling as he got up to his feet, Derek replied, “Fine. But don’t expect me to be happy about it. And don’t even think about throwing some sort of Christmas party in the loft. It’s _my_ loft.”

Stiles smirked. As if Derek would even mind. “Whatever you say Der-bear. Of course, I would _never_!”

 

-

 

They had already gotten through the first two boxes and were in the process of rifling through the third when Stiles came upon a treasure that he had almost forgotten about. He looked up at Derek’s back, where Derek was currently hooking a small picture frame of Scott and Stiles that was taken back in elementary school.

“Oh my gosh, Derek, guess what I found!”

Stiles held out his palm and in the center was a fist-sized ceramic howling wolf. The bluish-gray paint was chipping in some places and part of the left ear was missing as if it was bitten off, but Stiles distinctly remembers this wolf. Derek plopped down next to him as Stiles continued to examine the small wolf.

“What is that?”

“It’s a wolf, duh.”

“…I meant…uh…”

“I knew what you meant.”

They sat in silence as Stiles let the wave of nostalgia pass over him, while Derek peered curiously at it (Stiles thought he looked kind of funny because he still looked like he wanted to be angry).

 

-

 

Derek watched as Stiles chewed on his lower lip. He wanted to reach out and make him stop. (He kind of wanted to kiss Stiles too but those feelings were repressed for a reason _oh my god_.) He glances up when Stiles heaves a sigh.

“My mom made it for me when I was 8. It was the last Christmas before…before she got sick. She always made these little trinkets for me but this one was my favorite. I guess you could say that I had something of a wolf phase when I was younger.” Stiles chuckled, keeping his eyes on his hands as they stroked the little wolf.

Now, Derek was never that great with feelings. Even with Cora and Laura, he was rough around the edges at best. Then, after Kate, all of his feelings were fucked up, so much that he couldn’t ever imagine building a pack again, being a part of something again. And with Stiles, their relationship never had any sort of label or explanation; they weren’t exactly friends except they kind of were. They’ve saved each other’s asses on more than a few occasions, and Stiles was the only one who could (and would) keep up with Derek’s sarcastic banter. _And_ Stiles had come over with a huge ass tree just so he could have company over the holidays instead of “brooding in the shadows all alone like a creeperwolf all year round” (as Stiles had so eloquently put it).

So, Derek tentatively reaches out a hand and awkwardly pats Stiles’ shoulder before closing his hand over Stiles’ and giving them a little squeeze, deftly grabbing the little wolf and hanging it up right in the center-front of the tree, where there were surprisingly few ornaments hung up (or maybe Derek just conveniently turned the tree a bit, but those are details). And maybe it was the holidays or the close proximity or the unresolved sexual tension between the two of them that Derek’s heart fluttered just a little bit when the corners of Stiles’ mouth quirked up just the tiniest bit and he looked up at Derek with wide and shining eyes.

 

-

 

Stiles and Derek stood shoulder to shoulder as they looked up at the blinking lights that led up to the bright star at the top of the tree (Stiles definitely enjoyed himself when Derek carried Stiles on his shoulders so that he could reach the top). Stiles wasn’t so sure who reached out first but his hand ended up tightly clutched in Derek’s, and looked up to meet Derek’s intense gaze.

And then Derek’s lips were on his and his brain short-circuited, only focused on the pair of warm lips pressing on his. Stiles brought his arms around Derek’s neck as he jumped up and wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist, never breaking the kiss. His mouth opened greedily as Derek nipped at his bottom lip, his tongue curling into the wet heat of Derek’s mouth. When they broke apart for air, they were both breathing hard.

Stiles smirked. “Aren’t you glad I brought you a tree?”

Derek growls.

Stiles has no regrets.

 

 


End file.
